


All's Fair in Love and War

by Scrawlers



Series: Paradigm Shift [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Shenanigans, even the most serious and dedicated revolutionaries deserve to play sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16236896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrawlers/pseuds/Scrawlers
Summary: Everything was as normal until Lotor discovered Keith's ticklish spot. And once Keith decided to counterattack with Lotor's hair, the game was, as they say, afoot.





	All's Fair in Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after _Revolutionary_ , but before _Two Lives, Intertwined_. You don’t have to read either of those to understand this, though. Just know that Keith and Lotor are in an established relationship here, and that since they (and the generals) are the paladins of Voltron in this reality, they’re in the Castle of Lions.

Kissing was supposed to be an intimate, peaceful, relaxing activity. And it was, usually. Every other time they’d managed to snag a moment to themselves, they took kissing slow, deep, and gentle. It was soft and relaxing from beginning to end, every time.

Well, every time before this one.

They were in Keith’s room, on his bed, as they so often were. Lotor sat on the edge of the bed, his back to the door, while Keith straddled his lap, his arms around Lotor’s neck, his fingers combing through his hair. Their kisses were deep, slow, and usually broken only by the need to breathe. But this time, instead of continuing the moment after he caught his breath again, Lotor’s lips ghosted along Keith’s jaw, and then the space behind his ear. It was a new move, something he’d never tried before, and in the tick he did it, Keith wished he hadn’t. The instant Lotor’s lips brushed against the skin behind his ear, a reflex drove Keith’s shoulders up as he pulled away, warm goosebumps flashing across his skin.

Lotor raised his eyebrows, curiosity and concern alight in his eyes at once. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Keith said, but when Lotor continued to watch him, added, “It just . . . tickled a bit, is all.”

Keith knew immediately that he’d made a grave mistake, but there was no taking the words back. Concern was replaced by delight in Lotor’s eyes as his lips curled into a mischievous smile, and at the sight of it, Keith raised one finger between them and said as seriously as he could, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Lotor asked, but his faux innocence was betrayed by the devious glint in his eyes. He leaned forward again, his hand pressing into Keith’s mattress, his head tilted so he could kiss along Keith’s neck again.

Keith leaned back, and pressed his palm against Lotor’s forehead to hold him in place.

“Don’t tickle me,” he said.

“Tickle you?” Lotor said, his eyes wide to sell the innocence Keith knew he didn’t have an ounce of in his entire body. “Why ever would I do such a thing?”

“Because you—!” Keith’s voice broke off in a squeak as Lotor’s other hand, which he hadn’t been paying attention to, brushed across the back of his neck, fingers dancing along his skin. Keith skirted back, his back against the wall, and glared in the face of Lotor’s broad smile.

“So it’s your entire neck that’s sensitive,” Lotor noted. “Or the back of it, at least. Most intriguing.”

“I’m warning you,” Keith said. “Don’t do that again.”

“Or?” Lotor prompted, crawling across the bed to close the distance between them.

“Or you’ll regret it,” Keith said.

“How so?”

“You really wanna know?”

“I believe you’ll find that I do, yes.”

Keith looked Lotor up and down. Lotor was close enough now that they could kiss again, and in honesty, that sounded like a good plan to Keith. But kissing Lotor would only give Lotor access to the back of his neck again, and that would be giving Lotor what he  _wanted_ , not what he’d regret.

So in lieu of kissing him again, Keith leaned in closer, grinning a little himself. There was a triumphant spark in Lotor’s eyes as he smiled back, and that alone told Keith that Lotor thought he’d won.

“Just . . .” Keith whispered, slowly reaching around Lotor so that he wouldn’t notice, “. . . like . . .  _this_!”

In one motion, Keith grabbed the majority of Lotor’s hair in a fist and brought it up and over his head. It cascaded down Lotor’s face like a thick blanket, and Lotor’s gasp of surprise quickly turned into sputtering as a good chunk of the strands found their way into his mouth.

As Lotor pawed at his face to try to pull his hair away from it, Keith burst into laughter.

“What—” Lotor tried to say, but was reduced to more sputtering due to the amount of hair in his mouth.

This only served to make Keith laugh harder. “You look  _ridiculous_ ,” he gasped out, as Lotor finally pulled enough hair away from his face so that he could glare at Keith from between the curtains.

“Oh, do I?” he asked.

Keith nodded, his cheeks hurting from the force of his grin. “Yeah. You do.”

“Well.” Lotor fought to comb his hair back over his head, but by now it was tangled enough that a good chunk of it fell right back over his face. Despite attempts to hold it back, another bout of laughter bubbled out of Keith at the sight. “I hope you realize this means war.”

“Only if you catch me first,” Keith said, already inching away from Lotor on the bed. Lotor eyed him from beneath his tangled blanket of hair, watching his every move. “And considering you’ve got a blanket over your head, I don’t think that’s very likely.”

“Oh?” Lotor said, as he tried to tuck his hair behind one ear. “Well, let’s put that hypothesis to the test, shall we?”

Keith didn’t need to be told twice. He bounded off his bed and sprinted for his door. He didn’t bother to close it behind him; despite half his hair still obscuring his vision, Lotor was in hot pursuit even before he’d finished speaking, and Keith knew that that shutting his door would only serve to slow  _him_ down, rather than Lotor. Instead, he took a sharp right the tick he cleared his bedroom, sprinting down the corridor for all he was worth, struggling not to let his laughter choke his breath. He never would have imagined it, but it was  _hard_ to run while laughing. It screwed up his breathing and slowed him down despite how the adrenaline coursing through him gave him a boost.

His “hypothesis,” though, was at least partially right. With Lotor’s hair in a disarray and obscuring his vision, he  _was_ slowed down, at least a fraction. This meant that, despite his longer legs, he was half a pace behind Keith during their pursuit. This, combined with the fact that Keith was agile and able to take turns at sharp corners and stairs two or three at a time, meant that he was able to make it to the lounge before Lotor had a chance to grab him. He slammed his hand against the keypad without stopping, and the tick the door slid open he threw himself through it, charged across the room, vaulted over both the sofa and the coffee table, and then spun around to face the door just as Lotor entered.

It took everything he had not to burst into laughter again at the sight of him.

Running had not done Lotor’s hair situation any favors. Instead, it had only made him look even more disheveled. Flyaway strands covered his head, dancing among the tangles and soon-to-be knots. Half of it still covered his face, and as he put one hand against the doorframe, he had to spit yet another lock out of his mouth. It fell right back against his lips again.

“Is this supposed to be a safe zone?” Lotor asked mildly. “Because you’re aware that none of those exist in this castle.”

“Nope,” Keith answered. “This just puts more distance between me and you.”

Lotor smirked, and walked slowly into the room, looping around the left (his right) side of the sofa. “Distance that will soon be closed, I assure you.”

Keith started walking counter to Lotor’s path, his back to the wall, never taking his eyes off Lotor as he grinned back. “We’ll see about that.”

Lotor took the challenge for what it was. He charged around the coffee table, and Keith darted away, sprinting up onto the couch cushions and leaping off the chair so that he could end up where Lotor had stood just ticks before. Once again they stood apart from each other, staring each other down, and Keith laughed a little as he spread his arms wide.

“Wanna go again?” he asked.

“Oh, do I ever,” Lotor answered.

And so the game continued. They didn’t always complete full circuits of the coffee table; more than once Lotor tried to psych him out, feinting this way and that to trip Keith up and make him close the distance between them just enough so Lotor could grab him. But Keith was wise to his game; he had no qualms about leaping back onto the furniture if need-be, and after about seven doboshes of chasing him in circles around the coffee table, Lotor finally seemed ready to relent.

“I have to admit, this strategy of yours was a clever one,” he said, as they both took a tick to catch their breaths. “And chasing you in circles does not seem to be a productive counter.”

“That’s because it’s not,” Keith said, and he grinned as Lotor tried (and failed) to blow a lock of his hair out of his face again. “Ready to give up?”

“Hmm . . .” Lotor eyed him, and Keith knew the moment a small smirk began to tilt the corners of Lotor’s lips that he was in for something, and probably nothing good. “On the contrary, I think it’s time for a change of pace.”

Keith twisted around and leaped onto the chair as Lotor charged up and over the coffee table, closing the distance between them in a flash. Just as Keith jumped off the back of the chair so he could sprint for the door again, Lotor tackled him, sending them both careening off the back of the chair and into a heap on the floor. Keith broke his fall with his shoulder (which, while not the most comfortable of landings, was at least better than his face), and twisted around to try to get free of Lotor’s grasp, yet though Lotor had crashed into the floor just as he had, ultimately he still had the upper hand from grabbing Keith in the first place. By the end of it, Keith ended up flat on his back, Lotor straddling him, waves of white hair falling on either side of both their faces.

“I do believe I’ve won,” Lotor said smugly.

Keith rolled his eyes. “You cheated.”

“I did not. I merely adapted my strategy to the situation—something  _you’re_ quite fond of doing, as a matter of fact,” Lotor said, and then smirked a little. “Besides, even if I did, it’s as they say: all is fair in love and war.” He leaned down to press his lips to Keith’s . . .

. . . only for a lock of his hair to get in the way, trapped between their lips, Keith left to sputter and spit it out as Lotor drew back.

“Now your hair’s in  _my_ mouth,” Keith complained, dragging the last few strands of it out with his fingers.

Lotor raised his eyebrows. “And whose fault is that, hmm?”

Keith made a face at him, but it lasted for only a moment before an idea struck him. Lotor had only a tick to see Keith grin before Keith lifted his legs up and flipped Lotor over his head. Lotor landed on his back with an  _oof_ , but had no time to get up, for Keith had flipped himself along with Lotor, and was now straddling Lotor’s lap in kind.

“All’s fair,” Keith said, the moment their eyes met.

Lotor gave him a stare that was equal parts impressed at his maneuver and indignation at being outdone. But before he could figure out what to say (and really, Keith thought, rendering Lotor speechless was a far more impressive feat than flipping Lotor over his head), Keith helped sweep away the hair still stubbornly clinging to his face once and for all, and bent down to give Lotor a proper kiss.

“There,” he said once he drew back, beaming down in the face of Lotor’s wide smile. “Much better.”


End file.
